DarK
by Kazzia
Summary: Fitzwilliam Geoff Darcy III was extremely successful. So was his alter ego, Geoff Williams, lyricist, lead singer, and bass guitarist for the pop band DarK. Will has more than pride, Charles has a back bone, and Wickham is a crack addict.
1. Prologue

Just a couple of quick notes. Geoff is not pronounced Jeff, but "J (like the begining of Jeff) off". (Aunt Catherine thought Jeff was too peon-ish). LAFA is one of those acronoms that is said as a word. la FA (with the inflection and stress on Fa), as in the music notes, and it stands for the London Association of Financial Advisors.

* * *

Fitzwilliam Geoff Darcy III, of the reclusive LAFA Darcys, was extremely successful. So was his alter ego, Geoff Williams, lyricist, lead singer, and bass guitar for the pop band DarK. Although both were quite famous, no one ever made the connection between the two. It was helpful, of course, that the financial bigwigs and DarK fans didn't run in quite the same circles. But, never one to leave anything to chance, Geoff never gave television interviews, and the only DarK memorabilia that carried his image were the album covers, which always featured him standing behind his other two band mates, Char Daniels, lead guitarist, and George Anthony, drummer. 

Neither Char nor George thought this was strange, for they were also not known by their real names. No one in their right mind would listen to a band made up of Europe's best financial advisor, the only son of London bank tycoon Robert Emerton Bingley, and one of the youngest members of the House of Lords. So in order to be taken seriously, Fitzwilliam Geoff Darcy, Charles Daniel Bingley, and George Anthony Wickham all got creative with their given names and created a European pop sensation that was set to take the rest of the world by storm.


	2. Fitzwilliam

Fitzwilliam sat at his desk, staring pensively out the window. Although he was at work, he didn't have any actual work to do; he almost never did. In fact, he didn't even know why he showed up. As head of the London division, he was present only because his father had decided to retire and had insisted that someone occupy the top floor office. Again, William did not know why.

He had his own private entrance which led to his own private elevator. The elevator could stop at any of the 36 floors, but was the only one that opened into the plush office turned penthouse. Fitzwilliam Sr. had insisted on every convenience and amenity, claiming the Darcys had to "Keep up appearances." But because less than five people, and all but one of them family, had ever seen the opulent space, William knew his father had built it for no further purpose than to brag about it. The large conference room had never been used, the refrigerator sat unplugged and he had never even napped in the king sized bed. The only rooms William ever used were the mini gym, where he worked out for most of the four hours a week he was in his office, and the study where he currently sat.

So lost in his thoughts, William almost didn't hear his phone ring. Coming out of his musings, he smiled; it was probably Anna, calling because she was board, or an important business associate. He was quite willing to talk to either, the former because he always enjoyed talking to his sister, and the latter because it would have justified his being in the office. Whoever it was, they were either family or important; otherwise his personal secretary would not have bothered him.

He picked up the shiny black receiver of his seldom-used work phone. "It is Mrs. Reynolds, sir," the confident but respectful voice of his secretary told him. "She sounds agitated."

"Put her through, please." And when she did, William was grateful for the warning.

"FITZWILLIAM GEOFF DARCY! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing..." Quickly pulling the phone away from his ear and taking his feet from his desk, William sighed. He should have expected this call. He had known it was coming, but hadn't thought the news would be in the papers so soon. By the time he put the receiver back to his ear Ms. Reynolds had calmed down slightly. "It's bad enough that I have to pretend to be my sister-in-law in order to get a hold of you!" Mrs. Reynolds was the manager of his estate, and her husband's sister Ms. Reynolds was the manager of DarK. People would of course think it odd if a financial CEO often talked with a band manager, so whenever Ms. Reynolds called, she had to pretend to be Mrs. Reynolds. This usually put her in a bad mood. Today, however, she was more than just miffed. "But this, Fitzwilliam, how COULD you!"

"I suppose you are talking about the American tour?" He said, calmly interrupting her tirade. Deciding to accept the offer to do a three-month, fifteen-stop, costal tour of the United States had been an impulsive decision, one he obviously should have talked out with his manager first. And since he hadn't, he should have at least called her so she got the news from him instead of the media, but he kept putting it off, knowing how badly the conversation would go. _Well, too late for that now..._

In a somewhat more normal tone of voice, Ms. Reynolds replied, "What else would I be talking about? Did you even think about what this means? And how hard it will be to pull it off?" The problem was that he hadn't really thought at all about it. "You and Charles can disappear for months at a time and no one cares or gets suspicious, but _The Right Honorable Lord George_ can't just go missing! What if a session of parliament is called?" William hadn't thought of that, had only been excited that DarK had been asked to tour, and known his fellow band mates would be just as excited.. "He's got enough against him as it is! But if he misses a session, there will be talk!"

William put his head in his hands. The tour had sounded like a great opportunity to promote the band, and he had promised he would take Georgiana to the United States before she started college. "I'm sorry, I really am," he spoke slowly, knowing that more than an apology was needed for the way he had thrust this upon her, "but I know you will sort it all out perfectly. You always do. That is why you are our manager."

"No, Fitzwilliam," Too stunned at her tone of finality to say anything, William leaned forward at his desk, mouth open. _She was quitting? And when the band needed her the most?_ "I am your manager because I am the only one who could put up with both you and the horrible noise you call music," and with that, Ms. Reynolds hung-up on him.

AN: Anna is pronounced ON-na, and Georgiana is pronounced georg-i-ONN-na, with a British accent of course! Elizabeth will be in the next chapter.


	3. Mr Anal Retentive

Thanksgiving was one of the biggest holidays in the Bennet household. Sadly, that meant that Elizabeth had to spend slightly more than two hours in an over-crowded airplane squished between college students and frantic parents with young kids in order to fly from her New York office to spend time with her parents and sisters in Chicago. The holiday always brought mixed feelings to Eli; she loved getting to see her father and eldest sister, but her mother and the rest of the family were a trial.

Eli checked her email from her awkward perch on a living room couch, groaning when she saw she had received yet another message from the London office. For the past couple of months she had received an email almost every day from Mr. Darcy.

Jane, who had been at her own laptop, looked over at her sister. "Another email from Mr. Anal Retentive?" The nickname had been Eli's creation, and although Jane did not entirely approve, it stuck.

Nodding, Eli scrolled through the message which had the normal demands and a new note at the bottom; 'I want everything to be perfect for my sister; this will be her first time in the states'. "I rue the day that Alan referred him to me."

At first she had been excited. New York International Financial Advisers (commonly referred to as NYIF or "knife") was owned by the London division LAFA, which had been in the Darcy family for years. Getting to work and attend meetings with Mr. Darcy was a privilege, even if she was going to be nothing much more than a glorified chaffer, tour guide, and now, baby sitter. However, when she had accepted, she though she would be working with Mr. Darcy, Sr, not Jr.

Her presumption had no doubt been intentional on the part of Alan Farnwoth, who knew she would have not wished to work with the younger Mr. Darcy. Alan had been Eli's mentor ever since her internship as a graduate student at MIT. Although, until moving to New York, New York, she had only met him personally during her recruitment, they had formed a close bond and she saw him more as a grandfather figure than a boss.

Mr. Darcy Sr, was an incredibly demanding boss, but was very talented in predicting the stock market in various countries and was known to be fair if not kind. Mr. Darcy Jr, on the other hand, had a well-known temper and was thought to be ruthless, self-centered and extremely spoiled.

Jane rolled her eyes, shutting down her laptop in order to prepare for the rant that would surely commence shortly, "Why? Alan has been hinting at a promotion. And you're just about the most sought-after advisor in New York, especially for your age."

Eli gave an inelegant snort, "Just about should stop them from sending me the assholes."

" Elizabeth!" Jane, whose constant attempts to curb Eli's use of profanity were unsuccessful, scolded. "You can't go about calling the firm's owner an asshole."

Shrugging, Eli closed her laptop and turned to face her sister. "I just did. And God must be punishing me for something. Truly. He addresses his emails to 'Dr. Bennet' which is certainly Alan's doing," Dr. Bennet was Alan's affectionate name for Eli, "and they are so formal, I'm surprised he doesn't use thee and thou along with all of his thus's therefore's and Latin. He actually signs his letters 'Fitzwilliam Geoff Darcy, III!' They are so condescending, it's a wonder he bothers to write them at all."

Downstairs the front door slammed and Jane and Eli could hear two of their younger sisters squealing excitedly in pitches that were surely driving the neighborhood dogs insane. As they thundered up the stairs, Kitty and Lydia's voices became more distinct, and if possible, even more excited.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it!" Only about every other of Lydia's statements were intelligible as the two girls stumbled into the living room clutching each other.

"What is it, what happened?" Jane asked, leaning forward and catching their enthusiasm. But Lydia and Kitty were still too wrapped-up in each other to hear her. It wasn't until the two collapsed onto a couch that they noticed their older sisters were in the room.

"What the hell has got you keyed up?" Eli's firm, no-nonsense demand seemed to calm the two ecstatic girls enough for them to answer.

However, they didn't stay calm for long. Looking at each other, they practically screamed, "It's dark!" and burst into giggles and insensible sounds once again as they bounced up and down on the couch, still clutching one another.

Jane and Eli shared their own glance after looking out a window. "Dark? No it's not…" Jane's uncertainty was evident as she repositioned herself to peer out the window again.

By this time, Eli was ready to smack one or both of the idiotic sisters. Her patience had already been worn thin by Mr. Anal Retentive, and the last thing she needed was to deal with her reckless, immature siblings.

"Sit still." The resounding crack of the wireless mouse that went flying across the room to strike the couch between Kitty and Lydia did what Eli's voice alone had failed to do. "Shut up." Freezing immediately, the two silently watched as the mouse rolled off the couch, hit the floor and discharged its batteries, which rolled to a stop at the feet of their glowering sister. "And explain."

Kitty was the first to regain her senses and answer, though she found it hard to keep all of her considerable excitement out of her voice. "DarK is touring America this summer and they'll be in New York!"

Jane stared at her for a moment, before breaking out in a surprised smile, "The British band?"

Both Kitty and Lydia nodded eagerly at Jane then turned to each other. "We so totally have to get tickets, and backstage passes! We'll stay with Eli so we can be there early and…" The two once again started speaking animatedly with one another.

Eli gave a heavy sigh, rescued her laptop and mouse, and strode out of the room muttering about ridiculous sisters and anal retentive bosses.


	4. Bad Day

**AN: Wow. That took a lot longer to write than I expected. Summer is here so I hope to be writing more and posting often. Things will pick up after this (Eli and William meet in the next chapter!) I LOVE all my reviewers! You guys have no idea how much it means to have someone comment on my work, especially positively. You guys are great.**

**Wachovia Securties (of Wachovia Bank) and JPMorgan Chase are real companies. Lanty Smith and Jamie Dimon are their respective CEOs. I am affiliated with neither of them. Their appearance in this story and the characterizations of each are in no way real or based on real events or personalities. Their inclusion in this story is only for the furtherment of the plot and do not reflect the oppions of myself or FanFiction.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

William was having a bad day. It had started with breakfast. He and Georgianna were sitting at the dining table at his town house when Caroline burst through the double doors from the hall. How she got past his butler, he didn't know. Everyone on his staff knew of his dislike of Caroline Bingley and that she was to be denied entrance to his estate in all but the rarest of instances with a ready-made excuse.

"My darling Will!" She rushed to his chair, where he stood-up quickly; it didn't do to be at a disadvantage with Caroline. She attempted to kiss him, but their difference in height and his stiff posture were not conducive. Pouting slightly at her failed attempt, Caroline ran her hands down William's chest. "You should have told me that you are taking me shopping in the United States!" She wrapped her arms around him as she glanced at Georgianna's surprised look. Because of her inattention to him, William was able to extricate himself from her death-grip.

"Caroline," He said firmly, "What did Charles tell you?" He, too, looked over at Anna, and saw her crestfallen expression. _Damn, I have promised her for years that I would take her to the United States. Now she obviously thinks I am taking Caroline first._

Attempting to wriggle underneath his crossed arms, Caroline tapped William on the nose, "Silly Willy," She smiled slyly up at him and he blanched slightly. _No doubt she thinks the innuendo is coy or seductive. _"He didn't have to say anything. I saw on his itinerary that he would be flying with you, Georgie and," she giggled, "Obviously me!"

Anna's crestfallen look changed back into one of surprise and the barest bit of hope. William caught her gaze, then glared at Caroline. _Damn you, I was looking forward to surprising her! _He shook his head at Anna, hoping she would understand that Caroline, as usual, was seeing things as she wished they were, not as they happened to be. Although Anna seemed to understand by the happiness that crept back into her face, William was exasperated and quickly losing his patience with Caroline.

She was always a trial, and today was no different. She was all over him, attempting to cuddle with him like a girlfriend or lover would. _Well, that is what she considers herself to be,_ he reflected.

"Caroline, shall we take this to the receiving room," it wasn't a question. "Anna will be able to finish her breakfast in peace." Taking her elbow, he led her through another door into a small room with a couch, love stead, and three arm chairs. Setting her down as forcefully as he dared into one of the armchairs, he paced about the room. Famous art hung on the walls and vases, artifacts, and family heirlooms were tastefully displayed around the privet sitting room, with the D'arcy coat of arms taking pride of place over the mantle.

But William wasn't paying any attention to any of them. Instead, he was trying to bring his anger under control. The trip was supposed to have been a surprise for Anna, and Caroline had known that Anna had been begging him to take her to the United States of America for years. For her own selfish reasons, Caroline had ruined it.

Turning back toward the chair Caroline had thankfully stayed in, William gave her his sternest look of disapproval. With his coat of arms behind him, he knew the imposing picture he made. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep her in line. He took a deep breath, willing himself to speak calmly, controlling his fury, "Caroline, you are not going with us."

On hearing his pronouncement, Caroline's lower lip gradually made its way out from under her top lip. Of course, it didn't come out far enough to make her look silly or child-like but just enough to make her look, at least in her own mind, both like a damsel in distress and a little sexy. "But you have to take me!" As she started to rise from the armchair, William turned toward the fireplace, his jaw clenched, ignoring her as he struggled to keep himself from shouting, "... pooh-bear-pie-snookums..." Her long list of nicknames was the last straw for William.

"Out, now!" He pointed to the door. Caroline made no move to leave and instead started toward William. His butler, having known how many of the encounters between his employer and Miss Bingley usually ended, stepped into the room to escort her from the house. Purposely, she walked through the door to the breakfast room, waving cheerily at Anna. "Just a lover's spat, Georgie, nothing to worry about."

* * *

Darcy grunted, pulling himself up. Just a few more centimeters and his chin would clear the bar for the twenty-fifth time that morning. Dropping to the floor, he scowled at the pull-up bar. Whenever he was worried, angry, or stressed, he worked through it in this office gym. The workout, along with the long, hot shower afterward, usually restored him to the aloof professional he was expected to be.

Right now, William was all three, and although his workout had released most of his pent-up anger, it didn't help with his song-writing at all. He had just over six months before the tour began, but he hadn't written a single verse and he had no idea how he was going to pull off his meeting and concerts without tipping off Dr. Bennet.

DarK was going to travel to the United States about a month before the first show in order to try to avoid the American paparazzi, who were undoubtedly more intrusive and less scrupulous than their British counterparts. William and Charles would be taking the Darcy's private jet. This was not going to be unusual; ever since Cambridge, where ever one went, the other was sure to be not long behind. George would be going by more pedestrian means. After all, non-titled young men in the House of Lords did not have the resources available to other gentlemen of means. Instead, he would be flying in commercially, first class of course, about two weeks before the start of the tour.

William picked up a pair of dumbbells, his mind somewhere else. Ms. Reynolds had told him he needed at least three new songs to debut on the tour. Charles had already started on seven different songs, but William wasn't able to come up with even a single good idea for the lyrics to go along with them.

Lyrics were always hard; they couldn't be too 'preppy' or 'emo' and William detested songs that didn't make sense or sacrificed grammar or meaning for the sake of rhythm or rhyme. Not that those two weren't important. Neither could he pull too much from his real life, after all, he didn't want people to figure out who he and his band mates really were. Instead, he usually tried to pull things from what he imagined his persona Geoff's life to be like. This typically resulted in much ado whenever a new song came out. Fans, especially female ones, liked to scour their songs for hints on who the three of them might truly be. If he wrote a song about heartbreak, the tabloids mentioned every famous couple who had broken up in the last three months. Although William found this immensely amusing, he was grateful that no one thought to look in the financial sector and instead focused on actors and musicians.

He set the dumbbells down forcefully, reveling in the distinct clunk. William decided to end his workout early, instead he would take a longer shower and hum the music Charles had written while trying to figure out at least some basic theme or point for a song.

However, the phone rang just as William was patting his face dry with a towel. Cursing, Will decided to let it go; he was in no mood to talk to anyone and, given his current run of luck, it would be some business associate with a dire problem that he would have to deal with immediately. _Well, whatever it is, it can at least wait until after my shower._

The phone started ringing again while he was in the shower, irritating him further and wrecking his concentration. "Bloody hell!" At this rate, they'd show up in America with a bunch of instrumentals. By the time he had stepped out of the shower and dripped his way across the hall and into his study, the phone rang for the third time. It had to be a business associate; Georgiana would have only rung once, and Nancy, his personal secretary, would have left it at two, leaving a message to call so-and-so back, or asking him to stop by her desk on the way out.

For the first time since inheriting the business, William wished he had a real job. He didn't have much to do except be the figure-head of the business. All that was usually needed was for him to sign his name for mergers and buyouts; his underlings did the rest. Whenever there was a crisis, however, it was dumped into his lap, where he was expected to take care of it quickly.

He had no doubt that when he picked up the phone, the voice at the other end would throw his life into even greater chaos. "Wonderful! Exactly what I need now."

Sorely tempted to not pick up the phone, he stood in front of his desk, staring at the phone and dripping on the floor, as if he could stop the inevitable by mental process alone if he just glared hard enough. But he knew it would just keep ringing; his secretary knew he was in his office.

Sighing, William sat down at his desk and composed himself, "Darcy here." His voice was cold, distant, and professional.

"Smith is thinking of backing out of the handover. If we try a hostile takeover, his top execs will walk. He wants you to personally assure him that this is the right thing for his company. He also wants you to speak at the Wachovia Securities annual private stockholder's meeting in a week. JPMorgan Chase is making him an offer, and he's playing with us both to get the best deal."

William put his head in his hands, Wachovia Securities had been off and on about the deal since they had approached him over two years ago, and William had no doubt he was being tested by their CEO Lanty Smith. No one would have dared to play his father this way. The London Association of Financial Advisers was, after all, one of the largest and most trusted names in stock market analysis, especially the global stock market and those in Europe and Asia. The bank, as a fellow Fortune 500 company, would be making a wise decision to outsource all of its client's investment activities while interest in global markets and diversification was high.

"And he won't settle for a tela-conference?" He would give just about anything to not have to deal with Smith for any longer than was absolutely necessary. If he had to visit, he knew Lanty Smith would waste his time and treat him like any idiot to see how far he could push Darcy. As far as he was concerned, the deal only needed to be signed; every answer and assurance Smith or the owners could possibly want had already been given to them.

"No, and the sooner you appease him and close the deal, the better. He's probably going to try a PR stunt with all of this, so be wary." The current bear market in housing and mortgage was dealing a heavy blow to U.S. banks. Foreclosures were bad PR, and like any good CEO, Lanty Smith would be looking for any angle to put his company in a better light. Partnering up with an old, multinational company was a good start. Having two fight over you was even better. Thankfully, William and Jamie L. Dimon, the CEO and chairman of JPMorgan Chase, were on good terms and neither of them needed the Wachovia deal.

Taking his head out of his hands, he sighed, "I'll do it. Schedule a meeting for Friday if he's in North Carolina, Wednesday if he's in New York. I will fly out tomorrow morning and be in the U.S. at least two weeks, so get a schedule of events for the stockholder's meeting."

"Will do," said the voice on the other side, a little too cheerfully for William's taste. "Nancy will have all the details by the time you board the jet." He ended the call and hit the speed dial for his secretary, putting it on speakerphone.

"Nancy, I need the jet ready for a flight to New York tomorrow morning by nine. Charles may be coming along." William got out of his chair to pace. "Have the Hilton notified that I'll need the penthouse readied and I'll stay at least week. Depending on whether Smith is at the New York or North Carolina offices, I'll be meeting with him on Wednesday or Friday. I've been asked to speak at the stockholder's meeting next week, so I need you to arrange that as well." William fell silent, still pacing in front of his desk.

Will that be all, sir?" Nancy asked, her keyboard clicking softly in the background. He ran through everything in his head, attempting to push his frustration and anger aside, "I believe so."

"Have a pleasant evening, sir!" He hung up the phone as he grumbled to himself, then headed toward the elevator. Glancing at the clock, he realized Ana would be asleep by the time he got back to the house; he would have one of the servants tell her he had left in the morning once she awoke. He would have to tell them to assure her he would still be taking her with him during the summer.

Between William's anger, frustration, and stress, he had forgotten to tell Nancy to let his New York office know he would be stopping by sometime this week. William would be paying them a visit and expect a meeting with Dr. Bennet. Eli had no idea.


End file.
